


In Hot Water

by Naozumi Izumi Chou (NaozumiIzumiChou)



Category: CLAMP - Works, Cardcaptor Sakura
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Anal Sex, Bath Houses, Bathing/Washing, Bathtub Sex, Bathtubs, Bottoming, Boys' Love, Bubble Bath, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Canon LGBTQ Male Character, Canon Universe, Everyone Is Gay, Explicit Sexual Content, Gay, Gay Sex, Getting Together, Incest, Kinks, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Love, M/M, Male Bonding, Male Homosexuality, Male Slash, Masturbation in Bathroom, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Open Relationships, Oral Sex, Orgasm, POV Male Character, Parent/Child Incest, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Romance, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Inexperience, Sexual Tension, Shower Sex, Smut, Tension, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-09-27 21:08:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20414323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaozumiIzumiChou/pseuds/Naozumi%20Izumi%20Chou
Summary: A selection of stories focused around the men of Cardcaptor Sakura after the magical story has concluded. Yukito Tsukishiro, Touya Kinomoto, Syaoran Li, and Fujitaka Kinomoto are featured separately and in different combinations to highlight their changing relationships.





	1. The Bubbles / Reflect [Yukito Tsukishiro]

As it got later, I grew more and more tired: I had a difficult day at my part-time job as a convenience store clerk in a sleepy suburb. The oncoming winter chilled the air of its humidity and hospitality as our stock progressed through its cycle of seasonally-themed snacks and accessories. It was only October, but I had already started preparing more hot foods and scheduling Christmas chicken orders. Every year the cold came sooner. Customers started purchasing their heat packs and knit scarves, their kids pointing more and more at cans of hot cocoa instead of their usual excitement towards ice cream.

We had an early first snow - arriving nearly in time with the leaves’ change of color. Instead of several weeks of enjoying the fall-time sepia tones, I shoveled snow off the store’s front walk. Underneath the thin layer of powder laid the dark green leaves of the nearby cherry trees, slowly losing their life and color. Day after day, customers would come inside in droves to let out an exasperated sigh and utterance of just how chilly it had gotten. Dusting off their shoulders of newly-fallen snow and knocking sleet off their boots, they would meander around the convenience store in search of a snack or quick meal. Nearly always they would pick out a slight variation of their favorite dish - it became a game of mine to guess what each person would buy as soon as they came in. The students stopped by for rice balls and sweets, the salarymen came in for a cheap tie or unhealthy lunch, and women would grab a magazine and maybe some lotion. There were discrepancies of course, but I became keen to each demographic’s needs and tried my best to help each customer find what they wanted before they hopped on the next train or hobbled their way home.

Every day I worked alongside my boyfriend, Touya. At work, we were diligent and did our best to accommodate our customers’ every wish. We would exchange pleasantries and offer slight smiles, but our work as colleagues came first. Each shift was its own blessing: we could spend hours together without speaking a word, but the security of our bond spoke a thousand. It was nice to live alongside him while getting paid. Between the two of us, he held more responsibilities throughout the day, as he worked more hours, but I was left with closing the store each evening after he left to attend to yet another part-time job.

\---

Nearly simultaneously, three sounds occurred: the microwave’s timer went off, our sliding door issued its welcoming jingle to another customer, and the cash register let us know it was seven o’clock - time for Touya to leave.

“Yukito, I’m heading out. Do you need anything?” he asked as he wiped his hands off on his apron.

I slid a warmed entree out of the microwave and into a plastic sack while bidding him farewell, “It’s okay. Good work today!”

He left the counter and slipped into the staff room as I finished adding chopsticks and a napkin to my customer’s bag. Giving them their night’s meal, a slight bow, and a quickly muttered “Thank you,” my relationship with them was done, and they were off to face the impending blizzard. We would meet again, I knew. Convenience stores like ours had daily regulars sprinkled throughout our little neighborhood between the school and the train station.

I swept aside some errant dust on the floor before seeing off a customer who left without buying anything - we recently sold out of hand warmers, so I couldn’t blame them. As soon as the door slid shut behind them, I walked over to the staff room’s door, still slightly ajar. I peeped inside, seeing Touya still changing out of his mandatory uniform. He unclipped his name badge and set it on his locker’s shelf before taking off his tie. Instead of unbuttoning his dress shirt, he raised his arms, grasping the back of his collar, and pulled it off over his head. I could see his broad back muscles engage slightly with his boney spine while he curved over and undid his shoelaces. He stepped on the heel of his left shoe to slide his foot out absent-mindedly. Doing the same with his right, he unfastened his belt and dropped his pants down to his ankles.

Touya stood at his locker clad only in a pair of grey long-style trunks and dress socks. His back still facing me, I could easily make out the curve of his tight ass and thin, but muscular thighs. We had been seeing each other for years, but I was still giddy when I saw his body. Maybe it was the allure of his masculine features or the excitement of our hushed relationship, but my cock would engorge with the mere sight of his slightly tanned skin.

“Hey, Yukito!” he whispered while turning around. His sharp eyes smiled at me above reddened blushing cheeks. His body, now rotated toward me, was infallible. A humble, yet hard chest made way for a flat stomach with the outline of his abdominals muscles in the staff room’s light. A tuft of hair was visible above the waistband of his skin-tight underwear. My eyes were led lower to spy the cotton that cradled a bulge that I knew well.

“Have a good night, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow,” he called, waving at me casually. I winked and pushed the door shut to get back to my work. We lived apart, and each moment I got to spend with him was special. That daily glimpse of his beautiful figure would be enough for me until the next day. Taking a moment to compose myself, I shifted my chubbed penis’s position in my pants nonchalantly and went back to the convenience store’s counter, already excited to finish work and go home in another couple hours.

\---

By the time the last customer left, it was a quarter past eleven. Our store was previously a twenty-four-hour business, but the sleepy town we lived in didn’t provide ample income during the nighttime hours. I was flexible with my closing procedures: if customers stopped in last minute after their train ride home, I let them in for a quick purchase of discounted food, their liquor for the night, or a needed toiletry. I figured that this is why we still have support from our neighbors - we’re willing to go the extra kilometer.

Finally locking the back door, I did a once-over to make sure everything was closed up for the night, the shades were drawn, and the electronics were unplugged. It was habitual for me at this point. I tied my scarf tighter around my neck as I walked over to my bicycle in the cold. Throwing my leg over the frame, I adjusted for the weight of my backpack and started pedaling home.

Biking the quiet streets at night was one of my favorite things. My neighborhood didn’t have many stoplights, so I was able to cruise through at my own pace. Sometimes in a hurry for my next task and, like tonight, sometimes slowly while preparing to have a relaxing evening. I lived in a traditional house with my aging grandparents. They were still healthy, motivated, and devoted the rest of their time to exploring the world. I mainly served as housekeeper at this point, cleaning every once in a while and maintaining a neat stack of newspapers for their perusal whenever they stop back in town for a long layover. It worked out in my favor: I had the house to myself most nights.

Tonight, I decided, would be a bubble bath night. I slid the heavy storm shutters closed as I entered the empty home. My grandparents’ property was fenced with rock walls and surrounded by a seasonal garden which offered some protection from the cold winds. Slipping my shoes off, I stepped up onto the landing and made my way to the bathroom. Fiddling with the buttons in the dark for a moment, I brought out my cell phone and turned on the flashlight function to finish dialing in the ratio of hot-to-cold water in my eventual bath. In the spotlight, I could make out goosebumps on my arm. I was anxious to hop in.

After closing the door to the bath, I walked through the hallway to the make-shift kitchen. The old house was made before electricity was common, so all of my grandparents’ appliances and plumbing had to be retrofitted. A giant double-door freezer was imported to house all of the frozen international treats my grandfather liked and a fashionable wine fridge was installed in a nearby alcove for my grandmother. As it neared midnight, I opted for a glass of red wine to quiet my mind.

Popping the cork to a European cabernet, I wandered back to the bath, yawning as I walked. Entering the room, I identified the slightly sulphuric scent of the hot water. Another of my grandparents’ little luxuries was piping in hot spring water for the house. Initially thinking this was a mere cash-grabbing scheme geared to take the earnings from the elderly, I have since understood the power of the geologically-heated bath. After quickly pouring a tall glass of wine, I set it on the rim of the soaking tub and uttered a sigh of relief from the day.

I glanced in the mirror next to the tub. I stood average height with straight hair, grey since early childhood. Taking off my cardigan and shirt first, I looked at my now naked upper body - slim with no semblance of musculature and pale in the stark light of the bathroom. My small nipples hardened in the shock of the cold air hitting them. Unzipping my trousers, I bent down to pull them off and flung my clothes into the adjoining room. My boxers came last. I slid both hands into the waistband and slipped them off my body. My cock, adjusting to the temperature, sprung out first with my balls softly bouncing out to meet it. I cast my underwear out alongside the rest of my daywear before testing the temperature of the nearly-full tub of water. It was hot. Preparing for an evening to myself, I poured in a few drops of bath foam next to the faucet and briefly watched as it quickly spread bubbles across the surface of the water. Slightly chilled by the air, I picked up my glass and took a quick chug to start my blood flowing. I was tired.

I sat outside of the bath to clean myself first, pulling the shower head closer to my body as I lathered soap across my chest and watched it wash into the light scattering of hair above my penis. The image of Touya changing quickly flashed in my mind. His strong torso loomed in front of me, ripe for pleasure. I was reminded of the innumerable times he’s held me and I’ve snuggled deeper into his chest. I would grope around his firm body, enjoying my exploration. As I finished rinsing the remaining soap off, I could feel my cock rising in excitement. From my stool, I could see myself again in the mirror across from me. My dick was slowly hardening, the water spraying from the shower dripped down my body before running off its length.

“Enough,” I thought. I turned the shower off after seeing the faucet’s last drips flow into the bath. I had set the automatic controls years ago for this evening routine. The hot water leveled with the height of the tub, while the bubbles overflowed just enough for the splash of decadence I needed on these nights. Using my hands to squeeze the rest of the water off my body, I bent down. My reflection caught my eye. I could see the pink of my asshole in the mirror. Its small pucker was one of my connections to Touya. The nearly endless nights we had spent together since our school days informed my world view. My face, flush with hanging upside down and the now moist, warm air filling the room, began to form a smirk as I imagined the many hours I had wasted in bed with Touya.

Regaining my height, I slipped into the bath. The heat was calming, but still too much for my skin. I sat on the edge and watched my legs disappear into the bubbles. Leaning against the wall, I looked down to see the foam caressing my balls, seemingly floating alongside the soapy spheres. My cock, still fattened from my musings, was gliding on the water’s surface. I could feel the hot bath invigorating the underside of it with slight pops from the bubbles. Almost as though it were carbonated, I could imagine the stimulation tickling me lovingly. Acclimating to the temperature, I splashed my back and felt the bubbles’ massage as they lowered down my body, pooling under my ass. The warm liquid wet my hole. I imagined Touya. We were separated tonight, but I imagined the bubbly water under me as his salty pre-cum. I couldn’t help myself and let out a soft moan. My cock sprang up, now out of the water entirely.

Grasping it with my right hand, I began to stroke myself hurriedly. The bubbles around my crotch fizzled out with the repeated motion. Continuing to rub myself, I reached down with my other hand to find my hole. My legs, now spread to the width of the bath, began to quiver in ecstasy. I slid inside myself, testing my tightness with my middle finger at first. I found the wall of my prostate and felt a pulse of pleasure run through my spine. I ran my hand across my dick faster and faster. My legs, tense from holding me all day, seemed to collapse as the sensation spread from inside me to then engulf my body in relief.

I allowed myself to drop into the tub. The bubbles retreated to the farthest corners of the basin, with my body taking their place. The hot water pushed against me, and I continued to stroke my cock, swollen with lust and pleasure, even faster. I imagined the water pressure to be Touya wrapping his arms around me in a night of ecstasy. His strong arms cradling me as he pummeled his dick deeper and deeper inside me. Tempting myself, I worked to open my ass even farther open by adding in another finger. Gently massaging my sensitive cavity, I ached to be filled by my longtime boyfriend.

My pelvis gradually began convulsing in the bath. The bubbles surrounding me began to disappear off the edge of the tub into the drain on the floor. I thrust harder and harder as my excitement grew. My cock, now completely solid, pulsated and readied to empty itself. I tilted my head to lay it along the rim and caught myself in the mirror again. My eyes fell half-closed in rapture as I jerked my hand up and down the length of my penis. I could see the water churning quickly in the tub, waves emanating from my hard dick’s activity under the surface. I could almost feel Touya guiding my fingers farther into my asshole. As soon as I began to add a third, I could feel myself tense for an eruption. My ring finger massaged the outside of my hole and then slipped inside under the water. The tightening hug of the warm bath became too much and my asshole clenched my small fingers. I turned my head back just in time and saw my body spurt out its own hot liquid. The head of my cock was thrusting out of the water, releasing my semen in a fountain above the bubbles and leaking as it fell beneath and saturated the bath with cum.

“The mere idea of Touya’s sexual energy is enough sometimes,” I mused while my white cum floated around and globbed up with itself in the tub. I let myself lay there, basking in the hot water and the post-coital malaise. This cold evening was punctuated with my lust for Touya, and I was eager for our next night together after this soak. A half-drunk glass of wine was still waiting for me.


	2. The Libra / Record [Fujitaka Kinomoto]

“Are you able to come by for dinner tonight? I have something I want to ask you.”

“Sure - I’ll head over after picking up Touya’s dry cleaning,” Yukito offered.

“Great. See you then,” I said as I ended the call. Yukito had always been a helpful and consistent partner to Touya. I was glad they had stuck together after all this time. As far back as I can remember, they meshed well with each other. They used to arrive to school together, study afterward together, and host each other for sleepovers regularly. It was only when they reached high school that I realized they were lovers. I knew how difficult it was to find someone you loved and trusted enough to share your life with, so I let them continue their affair, only offering the most neutral guidance when asked. They were a beautiful couple, and there wasn’t ever a reason to split them apart.

Touya and Yukito eventually moved out of our town to go to universities in different cities. They kept in contact and their bond grew stronger and stronger. At home, I had the pleasure of seeing my youngest child, Touya’s little sister Sakura, through high school and graduation. The same year Sakura left for her own university adventure, Touya and Yukito moved back to our neighborhood, more educated, more worldly, and a couple years older. Now in their mid-twenties, the two of them lived separately: Touya lived in a newer apartment building in the trendier part of town while Yukito moved back to his grandparents’ home to help out with chores and upkeep as they age.

I was lucky in that, despite the years away from home, these young men would always do their best to stay in touch with me. I spoke with Touya every week on the phone when he was on his way to one of his part-time jobs. Meanwhile, I messaged with his boyfriend Yukito almost daily, exchanging cooking tips and extraneous links. They would visit for dinner every second weekend or so, and we always had a wonderful time catching up over drinks.

To commemorate the publication of my research in a prominent journal, I decided to invite some of these young people to a hot spring resort for a weekend. We had done these kinds of bonding trips often when Touya and Sakura were still in school and living at home, but with our schedules and travel, it had been hard in recent years to do the same sort of vacations. I was excited for a couple days relaxing in the mountains enjoying the company of those closest to me. My wife Nadeshiko loved our tight little family. She died many years ago now, but I did my best to keep the family spending time together.

I had been researching and planning this trip for the past few months. As I completed the most important components of my paper, I would reward myself by searching online for our lodgings and various scenic routes to take us there and back. I enjoyed research and compiling information, and even in my time off, I tended to embark on projects that required careful planning and consideration to pull off. The last event I had organized was a combined Christmas party and surprise birthday party for Yukito. We all helped cook and even rented out a space we could go dance in. Touya invited all of their friends from their universities, and Sakura invited her boyfriend Syaoran and her best friend Tomoyo. I was even able to convince some of our extended family to visit: Nadeshiko’s grandfather and her cousin Sonomi, Tomoyo’s mother. That winter became special because we were able to get together in a reunion of sorts. Rarely since then have we all been together in the same time and place.

\---

“Good afternoon, it’s Yukito!” the intercom rang. “I brought some cake!”

I looked over at the viewscreen and, sure enough, he was holding up a small white box in the fisheye lens. I could see the setting sun reflecting on his glasses with their stylish frames. He had a full backpack slung over his right shoulder along with a weeks’ worth of button-up shirts and blazers: Touya’s laundry. Yukito wore a crisp white shirt tucked into dark slacks. He must have been off running errands all day. Always a busy one.

“Come on in!” I buzzed him in from my phone. Quickly tidying up the living room, I thought about my accomplishments for the day. After finishing up my research, I had went into a frenzy to plan for our trip to the hot spring. I booked our hotel and was looking into train tickets. I was even looking into reviews to decide which vendors in the area were best for souvenirs. All of this research compounded with the mess I had made when editing my paper for the scholarly journal. Stacks of paper, miscellaneous maps, and highlighter littered the coffee table and surrounding surfaces.

As Yukito made it inside and rounded the corner with his boxed cake, I had finished dividing the piles and stowing them into their rightful, if temporary, spaces. I was excited to surprise him with news of this vacation - I couldn’t let him see any of the reservation confirmations just yet.

“Yukito, welcome! I hope this isn’t too impromptu. I know you’re very busy these days,” I greeted him.

“No, no - I had a quiet day. This is the perfect way to cap it off!” He gave me a one-armed hug.

Yukito smelled like lavender and sugar: calming, but sweet. His small frame seemed even thinner compared to me. I had always been diligent with exercise, and my broad shoulders and strong arms were evidence of my attention to fitness. He was always a little too fragile for the more intense physical tasks, which made him all the more likable.

“Well, I’m grateful you could make it. I’m sure you must be hungry. It’s nothing fancy, but I’ve made a new curry recipe I found. I sampled it, and it’s delicious,” I said as I brought him to the dining room. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“A wine, if it’s okay. You always make the best choices!” he smiled at me. We both shared a love for liquor, and I was overdue for an energetic drinking companion. As a professor, I would often imbibe with other faculty after classes and casually discuss our curriculum or new theories. Rarely did we break down social barriers enough to get into the particulars of our personal lives. Having only known Yukito as Touya’s friend, we didn’t interact regularly until after he began university. Yukito lacked the self-consciousness many of my colleagues hid behind, and it felt as though we could commune as equals.

I poured two glasses and stopped up the bottle with its cork. As I placed our drinks down on the table, I could hear Yukito sigh. He must have lied when he said he had an easy day. Yukito was never one to put a burden on anyone around him.

We raised our glasses and toasted the evening’s beautiful sunset through the window before sitting down at the kitchen table. I kept our family house after the kids moved out, but it was truly too large for a single man. My old library became storage for Sakura’s winter clothes; our yard became my constant gardening project; and the dining room became my second office. Cozier and less formal now, the intimate surroundings suited my lifestyle much better at this point. I set out bowls of curry and rice for Yukito and myself, each still warm and steamy, and we dug in to a hearty dinner and lively conversation.

Yukito and I had become fast friends in recent years. He was a jovial drinker, and my house was always stocked with an adequate selection of beverages. There had been many times he had stayed well past the last train’s departure and ended up staying over for the night. We both lived alone most of the time, and I’m confident that he too was grateful for the late-night company.

We relaxed into our seats. Sitting across from each other, we alternated in leaning in to share humorous anecdotes and arching back with laughter. Yukito and I took turns getting up and refilling our drinks. He had a heavy hand and would always come back slowly, anxious to not spill our adult drinks.

Tonight was no different. Our discussions covered a range of topics: world news, the minutia of Tomoeda, new craft and recipe ideas, the going-ons of our mutual friends, and general drinking banter. He would tell me what he was up to with my son Touya, and I would bring him news of whatever Sakura was doing at the time. I was excited to finally share the news of the impending vacation.

“Yukito,” I began, becoming more aware of a slight drunken slur. “In two weeks I’m heading to a hot spring to celebrate my paper.” He perked up in his seat. “I want you and Touya to come. Sakura and Syaoran, too.”

“Fujitaka - that sounds amazing! I didn’t know you were almost finished!” He raised his again nearly-empty glass to me for a cheers. “I’ll tell Touya when I see him at work tomorrow - he’ll be so excited!”

Gladdened by his response, I could feel my heart ease. His warm spirit was enough to light up the room. I felt my confidence rise as I watched his mind reeling, imagining the resort and their hot baths.

“I’m happy you’re coming. It’s something I’ve been wanting to do with you for a while now.” I nervously confided in him. “I’ve just been so busy with my research and teaching that I haven’t had the chance to slow down and catch up with you lately.”

“It’s okay. I totally understand!” He quipped. “This’ll be a nice time to breathe and really enjoy each other’s company. Should we open another bottle to celebrate?” Yukito winked.

I flinched as I saw his cute, bashful expression. His head tilted to the left and gave me another smirk.

“What do you think, Fujitaka?”

“Of course!” I shook my head, resetting slightly. “Here, let me show you where I keep the good stuff!”

I got up from the table and led him to the basement, where I had fashioned a make-shift wine cellar. Inside, shelves of different liquors filled the walls from floor to ceiling. My drinking hobby was on full display here. I took his wrist and pulled him closer to one of the racks of bottles.

“Pick whichever you like,” I allowed him the freedom to choose. 

He ran his fingers along the necks of the bottles, reading each one. Starting at eye-level, he peered first horizontally, then took his focus lower and lower until he was crouching next to the bottom row. Yukito looked up and smiled up at me.

“I’ve got just the one!” He slid it off the shelf and handed it to me. It was a bottle of old champagne. Dusty from its position in the room, I gently blew across its label to see its vintage: twenty-five years ago, the same year as Yukito’s birth.

“Interesting… Let’s head up and have a glass. It’s not chilled, but I’m sure it will be delicious with you.” I gestured for him to bring us back to the kitchen. He smiled and started walking up from the basement. Waiting for just a moment, I watched his thin waist and slight backside disappear back up the stairs.

“Almost ready!” he called. Back in the kitchen-turned-bar, he gracefully took out a match, struck it, and lit the single candle on the table. I smiled as I walked over to him with the warm champagne. Before sitting down, I popped the bottle, letting the stopper fly into the next room. Yukito cheered as we heard it land in some cushions.

Now popped, the carbonated wine fizzed out of its bottle, escaping its tight quarters. I lifted the bottle to Yukito’s chin: our wine flutes sat out of reach. Smirking again, he raised his mouth to the lip and began to slurp in the champagne bubbles off the tip of the bottle.

“Thank you,” Yukito began, wiping excess off his mouth. “This is a beautiful way to serve champagne.”

I laughed. It was my turn to sample the wine. I handed him the bottle, and he began to tip it toward me. At once I caught the liquid in my mouth, my lips closed almost entirely around the mouth of the bottle. The vintage wine flowed quickly into my mouth as I chugged it down. He giggled as he tried to pour faster. I began kneeling to match the angle of the bottle.

“Let’s not waste it,” I pushed the bottle back up, still swallowing the fizzy liquid. I stood back up, regaining my balance, and tried to take the bottle back from him.

“You’re right, we shouldn’t waste any of it,” Yukito winked at me again. A youthful grin coming back to his face, he lifted the bottle and tipped its spout down, this time pointing down to his chest. The champagne poured out, running along his cotton shirt and pants before seeping in and soaking their fibers. I watched, crazed by this sudden act of playfulness.

“Yukito…”

“Come and get it,” he said flatly.

I didn’t hesitate any longer. I embraced him with both arms, the front of his body soaked with the sticky, sugary liquid. He quickly brought the bottle to his lips, taking in one last mouthful of wine before turning to me, our faces in breathing distance. He pulled his glasses off. Without thinking, I pressed my lips against his, my hands probing the back of his torso. He opened his mouth slightly. The warmed champagne slowly ran into my mouth, sloppily splashing down my neck and chest.

He kissed me with greater fervor, the bottle still in his hand, now pressed against my back. I could feel him groping around as he slipped his tongue into my mouth, massaging my lower back until finding my belt and tugging it toward him.

I pushed him up against the counter. Our dinner dishes made a clatter as they fell into the sink behind him, and I pulled his body even closer. I could feel the last splashes of champagne find their way into the materials of our clothes. Beginning to unbutton his shirt collar, I gasped as I suddenly felt Yukito’s completely hard cock press up against my leg. His kisses sending me into ecstasy, I couldn’t handle it longer.

“Are… are you sure?” I asked. He stood in front of me, leaning backward on the kitchen counter within arms’ reach. His head arching back, Yukito’s eyes were half-closed, his lips open, searching for my mouth. His shirt, half undone, was soaked in champagne, and his slacks were tented toward me, his penis pulling the fabric outward.

“Fujitaka,” Yukito didn’t look down. “Please.” I could see his knees buckle slightly.

I flung my body back toward his, taking his lips into my own. Our tongues danced between our mouths, sloshing spit and the last remnants of the warm champagne back and forth. Button-by-button, I finished undoing Yukito’s shirt. His pale skin underneath contrasted with his blushing cheeks. The alcohol inside fueled me to move faster.

He became more aggressive in his kisses and pulled my body closer and closer to his own. I could feel my cock grow warm and fill with lust in my briefs. Rhythmically thrusting against me, our clothed dicks jousted against one another.

Unfettered with my necktie, Yukito grasped the chest of my shirt. Somehow stronger than I had ever seen him before, he pulled harder, ripping the cotton and flinging my shirt’s buttons around the room. My undershirt was already soaked with a mix of sweat and wine. Yukito pulled my head to his and stared into my eyes. Seeing the passion erupting in his pupils, I began pumping my hips toward him even faster. I stripped his arms out of his sleeves and cast his top on the floor. Finding his waistband, I expertly untied a loose knot and slipped his small body out of his pants. Clad only in a pair of flimsy white boxers, he lifted his leg and wrapped it around the back of my knee, pummeling his cock against my own.

Our foreheads still pressing against each other, I felt my hands exploring his ass. Beginning outside of his boxers, I felt around until reaching in from above. His supple butt muscles were tender. His hand met mine and commanded it to go lower, further into his shorts. My fingers found his hole, tightly held against my touch. Yukito whimpered as I lightly pressed it.

“Fujitaka…,” he pushed me away.

My body, caught unaware, fell against my kitchen counter. My tie, its length flung behind me, held my shirt together. Underneath, my wet undershirt clung to my abdominal muscles. My trousers, now housing a thick erection, bulged under my belt. I stared across the room at Yukito. His eyes were wide with lustful achiness. As they wandered lower on my body, I took the closure on my belt and unclasped it. I unbuttoned my slacks and slowly unzipped the crotch. Watching Yukito enjoy the view, I let my pants slide down my legs lazily. The front of my briefs stood away from my pelvis, my cock pointing toward him. I could see pre-cum already forming at its tip, dripping out of my underwear and onto the floor in front of me.

Yukito gasped as my trousers fell to the floor. He took a breath, smiled at me, and dove to my crotch, his face smothered against my bulge. I took ahold of the back of his head and pulled it closer to my body. I could see his hand reach into his boxers and begin to jerk himself off. I thrust at his face harder, and the stickiness of my pre-cum glazed Yukito’s cheek. Catching his eye silently, he took the cue to stand up from his knelt position on the floor. Trading places, I lifted my legs out of their fallen pants and pulled his shorts off his waist. His cock, dutifully arching up out of his torso, was slender and graceful, pulsating with pleasure. One leg at a time, I helped him step out of his underwear and turned him to face the counter. He responded gratefully, rocking forward on his feet to a tip-toe, and opened the angle of his ass up to me.

Immediately, I pulled my cock out of its tight wrappings. My briefs, wet with the scent of sweat and sex, cradled my balls as my dick popped out of the fly. Bracing myself against him, I stuck two fingers into Yukito’s mouth. He sucked on them excitedly and moaned for more. Suctioning my lips to his neck, I continued to gyrate myself against his hole. I slid my moistened fingers down the curve of his ass and into his hole

“Ohhhh…” Yukito squirmed in a moment of discomfort. His tight hole opened for my fingers slowly before he shifted his hips lower to allow me deeper inside. “Fuck me, Fujitaka.”

Needing no more invitation, I withdrew my fingers and pushed my hard cock toward his hole, now loosened with his own spit. Folded against the counter, his hole began to relax as the head of my penis penetrated him. Nudging myself inside, I could feel Yukito tense up. He reached down to my ass to pull me closer in. Feeling the sweaty briefs still on me, he pulled upwards, wedging the material between my cheeks and drawing my cock further inside his body. With his other hand, Yukito reached down below the counter to his own dick and began pleasuring himself again.

“Yukito, your hole feels…” I whispered in his ears. I had imagined this moment many times. The young man, soft and thin, was in every one of my fantasies. I would lay awake at night thinking about him. I would masturbate to visions of him almost daily, my shower drain full of cum indebted to him. I kept pushing my cock deeper inside his hole before stammering, “It feels so good!”

He moaned. I could tell that was his limit. His body contracted deeper in orgasm. The muscles in his ass convulsed, and cum shot out of him forcefully. I felt a hot liquid ricochet off the surface in front of him and stick to the hair on my legs.

“Fuck!”

“Ohhhhh…” It was my turn. Pummeling my cock deeper and faster, the tightness of his hole during climax was too much for me to bear. My eyes squinted shut, and I shot my load into Yukito, the warm cum filling his ass.

\---

We stood there, shocked for a minute before regaining composure. I slowly slid myself out of Yukito and backed up slowly. My cock, still engorged, but slowly becoming softer, flopped back and forth with each step. Cum dribbled out of its tip and onto the floor, leaving a drizzle on the kitchen tile.

Yukito turned back to smile.

“Thanks,” he smiled. His body, still trembling from fucking, was flushed.

“I hope that was okay,” I apologized. I didn’t want to change things between him and my son. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“I’m glad you did.” Yukito smirked before whispering, “I’m glad you fucked me and filled me up.”

Surprised by his flirtatiousness immediately after our romp, I gave him a look full of questions. He shrugged and then began wiping sweat and cum off his body with a kitchen rag. Getting on all fours, he began to clean my errant sperm off the floor. His hole, recently ravaged by my cock, was covered with my semen.

I pushed my dick, now nearly flaccid, back into my briefs and gave Yukito a light spank.

“Let’s go take a shower.”


	3. The Glow / Action [Syaoran Li]

I took my phone out one last time: this area was unfamiliar to me. So much had changed since I moved back into Tomoeda. I had finally learned my way around the city, but this park was large and confusing. Even my phone’s navigation system was having troubles, its compass switching direction after nearly every step.

“Figures,” I chuckled. Yukito loved going on picnics, and the more scenic the location, the better. Today’s lunch took me to the outskirts of town where the urban sprawl cuts off and a hillier, rockier landscape begins. He picked a spot with a humble waterfall and an old teahouse. Yukito had said he had been there several times before and wanted to share it with me. The park was a popular location for dates and hikes, but I had never been there before with Sakura.

Sakura and I had met in elementary school and immediately bonded. I grew up following her around on her many adventures, but in the past few years, I learned that I was looking for more out of our relationship. Somehow, a decade came and went in the blink of an eye and we were changed people. I had always put a lot of time and energy into our bond, especially since we decided to go to different universities. Much of our relationship was built during phases of long-distance partnership, but adulthood came with its own territory, and we were still figuring out the details of how we would interact with one another.

Throughout my time with Sakura, I had always known Yukito. He was practically her brother-in-law at this point: Yukito had been seeing Touya for years and one couldn’t think of one without bringing up the other as well. Shortly after meeting Sakura, I met Yukito, and even as a young boy, I was drawn to him. Oddly enough, she harbored the same feelings toward him, and we fawned after the same crush for years, rivals in love.

All this time later, my feelings for him would come in waves: sometimes he was all I could think about, and sometimes I almost forgot about him, only wanting to talk to Sakura on the phone. The limitations of my relationship with her allowed me to control my urges, and I was generally content with how things went.

Yukito and I would go out for a picnic, coffee, or something similar every once in a while. He loved finding new places on blogs and got recommendations from friends on the best cold brews, lunch sets, or walking itineraries. I would always laugh when he would take me to the adorable cafes and friendliest dog parks. Yukito wasn’t scared of being seen in these lavishly cute places.

I looked around and could see his figure running towards me in the distance. He wore a grey sweatshirt over a navy top. His black pants contrasted with a pair of short brown boots. He looked like a magazine model dressed for a hiking date.

“Syaoran!” he called out. “Glad you could make it!”

“No problem - It was easy to find,” I lied, nervously pocketing my phone before he noticed it.

Yukito slowed down and gestured up the path he had jogged down from. “I already set up lunch!”

“Just in time - should we go?” I asked. He nodded in agreement before giving me a quick hug. Yukito was affectionate: I wondered if that was the cause of my years-long crush.

We started walking up the stoned path toward our eventual lunch. As we left the park’s entrance and hiked farther inwards, the beeping of the cars and the thundering of the train were replaced with the wind rustling the tree leaves and bird songs echoing through the forest. I had been studying for university seemingly all day and night for the past few months, and this, albeit brief, nature excursion was a relief to my senses. My current mode of working hard on my education only gave me short breaks to catch up with Sakura and wasn’t sustainable in the long run. I needed more time relaxing, more opportunities to socialize with other people, and more trees in my life.

The final exams for my classes were coming up in the next few weeks, and I wanted to get a head start on reviewing everything I had learned in the semester so far. This gave me very few opportunities to get in touch with Yukito and see what he was up to. This picnic was finally my chance to see him and learn a little bit more about my feelings toward him. My teenage inklings were becoming too much to bear at this point, and I wanted to understand our connection more.

As we walked, Yukito did his best to get me up to speed with everything that had been going on in his life. He was working at a convenience store with Touya, taking knitting classes every once in a while, and had just started watching a new show that he couldn’t remember the name of. He giggled at himself trying to come up with its title, each guess sounding less like a television show and more like a home improvement store.

Rounding one final curve, the path led us to a small teahouse overlooking a waterfall: our destination. It was quaint: consisting of one room, the teahouse was just big enough for two people. Essentially a traditional park shelter, each of the four walls held screens made of rice paper that could be opened or shut at will. Yukito had already come up and set out our meal: lunch boxes of grilled salmon, pickled vegetables, macaroni salad, and rice. His signature east-meets-west fare was paired with a warm thermos of green tea sitting between the place settings.

“Yukito! This looks great!” I looked over at him excitedly. He was beaming, proud of his picnic set-up. Walking over to the shelter, we stepped in and knelt around the food. The teahouse sat on short stilts and provided an excellent view of the waterfall. Only the height of a single story, the water was dropped down haphazardly, hitting any jutting rocks and stray plants on the way down.

“Let’s eat!” we chanted in unison.

Yukito’s cooking was always delicious: he had worked enough part-time jobs that he knew his way around a kitchen and knew how to present his offerings as well. The salmon was crispy and juicy, the pickles tasted flavorful, and the macaroni and the rice provided an excellent base to the meal. I had grown to love sharing meals with Yukito: his personality came out in his cooking and in his excitement toward food.

The waterfall made a heavy and irregular sound. The current, while loud, was deep enough to compliment our voices, providing privacy and white noise for our conversation. We went through all of our regular topics as we ate, enjoying one another’s company. It honestly felt like a real date.

“Want some more tea?” he asked with a grin, holding the thermos up to his face.

“Of course, Yukito,” I replied, just a little too quickly.

He reached across our empty spread and took hold of my cup. Tipping the containers toward each other, he slowly poured me a hearty serving of the still-hot beverage.

“Mmmm…,” he brought the cup up to his face, sniffing the contents. The steam rising from the tea wafted along his face, fogging his glasses and adding a slight blush and glisten to his cheeks. I could feel him staring at me through his blurred lenses. “I’ll be back. Enjoy this while I’m gone, okay?”

He stood up from our indoor picnic and unconsciously brushed off his thighs. Making his way towards the open screen door, he found his shoes and tucked his stockinged feet inside. I let out a sigh. I loved being with him, but the nervous feelings in my stomach wouldn’t go away. Being in such close quarters, smelling his faint scent, was such a warm, intimate experience for me. I didn’t want it to end.

The small room we were in felt so much larger with our empty lunchboxes and without Yukito’s presence. I slouched back on the wall behind me. Sipping on the hot tea, I closed my eyes in relaxation. It was true bliss.

As I laid back, I could see through the gap of the sliding door. Our waterfall view encompassed only the two most public sides of the teahouse, while the other angles of the square-ish building were temporarily partitioned with the closed screens made of rice paper and wood, hiding the view of a small clearing in the tree-filled park.

Perfectly framed between these two screens was Yukito. Only a few meters away, I could see him finding a moment of privacy behind the teahouse. Having filled himself with the green tea he had brought, he took a cursory glance at the surrounding nature and began to unbutton his pants. My eyes grew wider. I set down my tea with a thump, its contents splashing over the sides of its container, falling on the bamboo mat beside me.

Yukito stood facing the teahouse, his body arching back slightly and his head seemingly looking to the top of the waterfall just past our picnic shelter. Taking a deep breath, he unbuttoned the top of his trousers and began to unzip them. I could feel my penis coming to attention in my own pants. Without thinking, I grabbed at my crotch. My breath quickened as I could feel a teenage fantasy begin to fulfill itself.

Absent-mindedly, he drew his zipper down and exposed his underwear. He wore a pair of grey and white striped boxers, slightly bunched at the waist while his pants began to sag without their closures fastened. His relative ease contrasted with the impatience growing in my own body. I had already began to grow hard in the few moments of seeing Yukito in this new, taboo way.

Yukito reached into the fly of his boxers and pulled out his cock. Still soft, it seemed to glow in the afternoon sun. It was beautiful. Closing his eyes, he reached down with his other hand to take out his balls, veiled lightly in grey hair. Cupping them in one hand, he held his cock with the other and let out a sigh. I gasped.

Fidgeting around in the teahouse, I got to my feet, my right hand fumbling under the front of my pants. My dick was completely erect, somehow already leaking pre-cum onto my jeans. Turning away from the open doors of the opposite side of the room, I leaned against the sliding screens that shielded me from Yukito’s view, my hand furiously pumping against the skin of my cock.

With his genitals naked to the quiet park, he began relieving himself in the grass ahead of him. A golden arc of piss flowed out of his cock with high pressure. I could see his chest heave softly, relaxing and taking in the fresh air. He lowered his gaze slightly, first to the top of teahouse, then lower to the sliding screen doors. I couldn’t tell if he could see me peeping out, but I continued to pleasure myself to his lewd act.

Yukito’s eyes widened slightly, catching my own in the gap of the door. I froze. After a moment, he nodded down to his cock, still emptying his bladder onto grass below. Blinking and seemingly clearing his mind, he looked back up at me with a soft smile and a striking amount of confidence.

I continued to stare at this impossible sight. I had dreamed of his body for years, and suddenly the sight of it was mine for the taking. With one hand still jerking myself off, I slid my pants down my legs, my lower body chilling slightly in the shade of the teahouse.

The last drops of piss dripped off the end of his penis, hanging limply out of his fly. He gently stroked himself, squeezing the remaining urine out of his cock, all the while locking eyes with me. I began breathing quicker and quicker, the intoxicating feeling of my hand rubbing my cock was overwhelming me.

I pushed the screen in front of me out of the way, letting it overlap fully with its partner. It groaned in its casings. Standing nude from my waist down to my ankles in the open shelter, I continued to stare at Yukito, still jacking off my hard dick. I could see him smile and run his eyes down my body, their focus pooling around my manhood. As the remnants of piss had finished emptying out of him, he kept making full strokes down along his own cock. It slowly filled up with blood as he watched me jerk off to the sight of him, meters away.

I saw his eyes trace me in my excited state. Occasionally they rolled back and he luxuriated in the pleasure flowing through him from his cock to the rest of his body. With his free hand, he gently pulled at his balls, his knees sometimes buckling slightly as a throng of lust enraptured him. My hips began to rhythmically thrust toward Yukito, sliding my hardened cock through my tight grip. I imagined it as his ass, my dick tunneling deep inside while it hugged me.

We both stood tall, masturbating to each other from a distance for a few moments before I felt myself approach orgasm. Unsure of what to do, I bent down and grabbed my empty cup, green tea powder still staining its rim. Yukito watched me, smiling again as he could guess what I was about to do. His gaze encouraging me, my body pulsed as I found my climax. I let out a grunt as I hurried to bring the cup to my cock, already pouring out cum. Catching as much as I could, some landed messily around my feet on the bamboo mats. I finally relaxed and allowed my hand to release its grip around my penis, still throbbing faintly and dripping cum as it softened. I exhaled.

Yukito, still deep in the act of pleasuring himself, slid his boxers down. His cock briefly hid itself from view before jolting out the top of his waistband fully erect. He began walking over to me through the grass. He held the waistband of his pants up with one hand and stroked himself with the other. His eyes resting lazily on my swollen cock, I could see what he was wandering towards. Still half-full of tea, I quickly reached over and handed him his own cup. He sat on the edge of the teahouse platform and leaned back on his elbows to masturbate to the sight of my cock, cum still draining from its tip. His pants around his ankles and bare ass sitting on the rough wooden platform, I could feel the structure shake as he came. His white liquid gushing into the cup and mixing with the tea, He stared back into my eyes in ecstasy.

\---

Lost in the surprising experience, we took a moment before adjusting back into our regular selves. I struggled my pants back up my legs. I pushed my cock, still coming out of its erect state, into my fly before fastening it back together. Yukito gracefully lifted his hips from the floor and slid his boxers and slacks back on. As he stepped back into the teahouse, he finished zipping up. I could see a cum stain already forming on his lap.

He picked the full teacups off the floor and offered his to me. I thought for a moment of Sakura, but quickly shook my head. Yukito was calling for me.

“Cheers.”


	4. The Dream / Mirage [Touya Kinomoto]

An old 80s ballad began to croon into my ears. It was soothing, but obtrusive: I was tired. I scrunched my eyes tighter in rebellion, but my alarm persisted. Feeling Yukito begin to stir, I gave up. With my free hand, I reached back and swatted at my phone until the recording of wind chimes and electric guitar finally shut off.

It was only recently that I had thought of how energizing it would be to wake up to the radio playing, but I already was disillusioned to the concept. The morning previous, a commercial for a local politician awoke me from my slumber. The day before, the app aroused us to blaring static: a product of me forgetting to set the station and volume. Surely a product for an older generation, I needed to find a better way to start the day.

Basking in the newly-made silence, I found myself spooning Yukito. He laid there quietly, mouth slightly ajar and breathing out with a slight purr. I was jealous: He didn’t have to get out of bed for another few hours. A kind warmth resonated from his body and flooded me with a calming sensation. It begged me to stay in bed with him. Twisted messily in the covers, Yukito wore a silk pajama top with its chest unbuttoned. His pale flesh peeked at me as I nudged myself out from under the covers. He was bottomless and I could see him subconsciously shift his ass toward me for further cuddling.

I eased myself to a seated position in bed and felt a small chill. Looking around the room, I spotted my pants hung over a chair, my jacket laying near the dresser, and, through the doorway, my wallet and keys spilled next to my shoes. I felt my socks hugging my ankles and the shirt I wore the day before at the foot of the bed. My eyes darted around to find my underwear.

My phone vibrated again persistantly. I looked over and saw I had a missed call, several messages, and another alarm going off, this time muted. Somehow, it had been an hour since my first collision with the radio this morning: I must have fallen back asleep.

My heart started pounding as I remembered I had to get to work. I specifically came over to Yukito’s the night before because his house is closer to the convenience store we worked at. Instead of being able to enjoy the leisurely morning I had hoped for, I guessed I went back to sleep, hugging an inanimate Yukito for an extra hour. It was late now: I had to make up for lost time.

Sneaking my arm out from under my sleepy boyfriend, I leapt out of bed and slipped clumsily into the clothes I had sleepily stripped off the night before. The sun was slowly filling the room with morning light, signaling me to hasten my pace in order to get to work on time.

Once dressed, albeit sloppily, I knelt down to Yukito and neatly tucked him back in. All alone, his thin frame seemed too small for the bed with the blanket the only thing to warm him. It was in times like these that I felt the most connected to him: I enjoyed feeling like I could protect him and provide him with things to make him happy. The blanket would do for now.

“Have a good day, babe. I love you. See you next weekend!” I whispered bashfully as I ran my hand over his cheek. I continued the motion down his chest as it softly rose and fell and down to his soft stomach, still rumbling for more food. My hand grazed his crotch, and I could feel his fully-formed erection underneath the comforter. It pulsed wantingly as I took my hand away.

Apparently listening, he craned his neck up, beckoning me for a kiss. I dropped closer in to give him a peck on the cheek, but he deflected and rolled over. He really was still asleep.

Disregarding his early-morning rousings, I placed my lips on his forehead and headed out: I had a busy day to get started on.

\---

Thanks to that morning’s rush, things were especially exciting at work. With my underwear nowhere to be found at Yukito’s, I had made the decision to go without. The slacks I wore at the convenience store were tailored and hugged my package so tightly that the contour of my cock and balls was clearly visible through them. I ended up wearing an apron tied loosely around my waist to modestly cover myself, but I’m sure my co-worker noticed my bare bottom when I turned away to change out of my work pants in the staff room: He had winked at me knowingly when I left to rush to my next job, pork cutlet sandwich in-hand.

On the subway trip in between, I received a message from the now-awake Yukito.

“How’s it hanging?”

A video slowly loaded as a second message. Once it buffered, I groaned at my sleepy stupidity: Yukito filmed himself walking into the kitchen, opening the freezer, and fishing my jockstrap out, frozen from its overnight stay. He panned the camera to the floor where a package of ice cream bars sat leaking out its melted contents. He raised the camera back to his face, as cute and lively as ever, flashed a peace sign, and ended the video. While I was glad he wasn’t angry that I ruined his favorite dessert, I was both surprised and baffled by my nighttime mistaking of underwear for ice cream.

The past year had been difficult on both of us: our schedules would change every week, and we rarely had time to spend together. While we found ways to preserve our bond, it was hard to stay present with one another. Often we would only see each other once or twice a week, and many of those visits would mainly be comprised of sleeping alongside one another. It was good work, and I felt accomplished at the end of each day, but it was tiring. Fatigue was a constant between Yukito and me.

“Hanging here, hanging there. Hanging on the train now,” I answered his message before sending him a classic eggplant emoji. No sooner did I respond than he sent me another attachment, this time a photo. Glancing around the train car for any onlookers, I loaded it carefully. The picture showed a naked Yukito wearing the white jockstrap I had left around his ankles. He stood facing a mirror, taking the photo with his phone in one hand and the other hand holding an ice cream bar melting down his chest and dribbling off his hard dick like a milky pre-cum.

“Yukito…” I whispered to myself.

Suddenly, the train doors opened, and I realized it was my station. I regained my composure, took ahold of my bags, and left to the next job.

I had started coaching basketball a few months earlier, so I was lucky in that I had already taught most of the drills to the players and could sit out and watch for the majority of practice. The only slip-up in my lesson plan was teaching jump shots: I ended up having to provide myself as an example, even in my unsupported state. Running down the court in the practice uniform, I could feel the gym’s air wooshing past my dangling penis and balls. Each time I lined up my shot, I could feel myself pressing my hips forward and my cock pushed up against the mesh fabric of my shorts. I caught a few of the guys glancing downward at my groin instead of toward the arc of the ball to the net. I would do the same, I supposed.

My shift at the pub proved similarly interesting, but here it was dim and the patrons were drunk. I would wait on tables and fill up pints of beer for the groups that came in, but I knew some regular customers that came alone and liked to chat with me as the night grew later. Some of the men were especially drawn to me and tended to drop into flirtier conversations. These were my favorite.

One client was especially persistent. I first knew of him as a gym instructor at Sakura’s school. He had started teaching there the year after I moved up, so my knowledge of him was limited to what she would tell me. Years later, he is married to one of Sakura’s old classmates, works as a trainer at a nearby swim club, and often drops by the bar I help out at.

“Have a girlfriend, Touya?” he asked me after his first drink. I took a moment, drying a mug behind the counter. “Or a boyfriend?” He whispered and smiled at me.

I nodded and continued my duties: bussing tables, running food out to customers, and checking in on the clients at the bar. My conversation with this man deepened with each visit.

“What’s his name?” he asked when I filled up his second drink.

“It’s Yukito,” I answered when I came back around.

“Have an arrangement?” he smirked at me. My eyes darted at him as I caught his suggestion. He was very attractive: not much older than me, spiky brown hair, and broad-shouldered. He was underdressed for the pub with a hoodie over a lime green tank top. The hem of his top stopped just short of the waistband of his athletic sweats. I could see ridges of muscle leading down the center of his flat stomach.

“Maybe we do.” I answered coyly.

“Ehhh, Touya!” a customer called from across the room. I snapped out of my flirtatious attitude and ran over to refill their glasses.

When I walked back over to him, I found him leaning back slightly, his phone laying on the bar. His gray sweats bulged slightly at the crotch. He saw me eyeing him.

“Boxers or briefs?” he asked.

“Today?”

“Right now.”

I shrugged my shoulders and looked down to the front of my own pants, “Give me a minute.”

Taking his phone from the table, I slid it in my back pocket. He grinned as I excused myself to the restroom. Locking myself inside, I swiped the phone’s camera function on and sat it on the lip of the sink against the mirror. The red circle began to flash to indicate it was recording.

Looking at the screen across from me, the top half of my face was cropped out of the camera’s view while the bottom edge hugged my mid-thighs. I took a deep breath in before sighing slowly. Reaching down with one hand, I cradled my package, hid behind my pants’ thin layer of black cotton blend. I let go and slowly unzipped my fly. I could feel my cock reconfigure itself inside as I unbuttoned the waist. Without fanfare, I let my pants drop to the floor. They slid down my legs slowly, and I watched more and more skin become visible on the camera’s screen. I saw the shaft of my soft cock revealed and next the head burst out. My pants draped down the lower half of my legs just out of view. I took a moment to grab ahold of my meat and give it a slight tug, elongating its image in the camera, before letting go and watching it bounce back to its dangling state. I reached across and stopped the video.

After zipping my pants back up, I picked the phone off the counter and scrolled through to find the recording I had just taken. Smiling to myself, I keyed in Yukito’s phone number and sent him the teasing video. It would come to him from an unknown number, but I was confident that he knew my cock better than I did: years of his after-dark research had surely committed itself to his brain. The pleasure he gave my manhood was based around his attention to detail.

I left the restroom and quietly slid the phone back to its owner. Hearing my name again, I rushed over to the other remaining customers to take their last order. Fittingly, this request was another order of grilled sausage.

Going back to the bar, I caught the man’s eyes once again.

“Nothing.”

“I’m sorry?” I asked, unsure of what he was referencing.

“No boxers. No briefs. Nothing.” he continued.

“Just for today. Maybe just for you.”

“Thank you.” He slid cash for the night’s drinks on the bar.

“You’re welcome… please come again…” I stuttered as he stood up. His sweats showed a bulging hard-on tenting up underneath. My obvious expression cued him to flex the muscles under his cock and offered me an approving nod. He turned to leave and reached to the back of his waistband, pulling it down casually so I could see the top half of his naked ass. Snapping it back, he left the pub without a word.

\---

I finished up at the pub around midnight and checked my phone to see Yukito had messaged me a number of times in the past hour. Rushing to catch the last train, I paused to look at his messages.

The first was a winking emoji and a note mentioning how an unknown number had just sent him a video of “the most delicious dick” he had ever seen.

The second message was a photo he had taken of me on a camping trip we took together. I was standing naked knee-deep in a lake, my body slick with water. Yukito had used an app on his phone to draw a red heart around my cock, further accentuating my public nudity.

Next was a video of a familiar-looking pair of sweatpants. The video was shot similar to the one I had just taken, but instead featuring someone who I could only guess was my bar regular. He first took off his bright tank top, revealing chiseled abdominals and a hairless chest. Then he pulled down his sweats, his hands tracing his legs from waist to ankle and offering a flash of his face, confirming my assumption. Once he righted himself, his cock came into focus. Thick and veiny, it throbbed in the light of the video. An audible gasp came from Yukito.

Apparently he went commando, too.


End file.
